Date 17
by ROMVLVS
Summary: a take on randy's date no 17


Date 17

Randy Orton waited quietly at his table. He wore a dejected grimace as usual. He was in a simple white shirt and a pair of plain black trousers. He knew better than to fight this. There was no way he could get out of this. And there weren't many Divas left, and this could get over quickly. He wanted to get away with as much little effort as possible, and not fighting John Cena and those two assclowns and just doing what they wanted would be the best. He was waiting for twenty minutes now, and this was getting on his nerves.

"Who the hell does she think she is?" randy growled to himself. He was sitting on a table smack in the middle of a dimly lit romantic looking French restaurant. "BONSOIR RAAANDEE" said a thickly accented voice behind him. Maryse slithered in, in a chair in front of him. The maitre'd handed her a menu, and she quickly yelped out a lil "Merci." to him. She began looking through the menu intently. Randy picked up his menu and did the same, 'not even an excuse for being late?' Randy thought. The waiter came to take their orders and as randy opened his mouth to tell the waiter what he wanted; a slim but long fingered claw stuck itself in his face. Then as the two men watched the claw, it snapped itself close like making a hand animal except for the pinky. `THAT' was Maryse's signature taunt. "I, will order." She said, "I, am French afterall, and this iz a French restaurant qui?" Randy Orton just sat there stunned. The insolence of this girl. The maitre'd rolled his eyes at Randy. He took the order and went away. "SO? What do you plan to do this Sunday at Royal Rumble? I hope you don't plan to get kicked in face again by Sheamus. I will be beating that leetil Chinese girl. AND winning the title." She emphasized "I, after all am PERFECT!"

As if the humiliation he had suffered on RAW the last two weeks wasn't enough, she was rubbing salt in his wounds. The egotistical head of the Viper rose as Randy spat under his breath slowly, "I am going to punt that pale redheaded grizzly."

He kept eyeing her with narrowed eyes. She seemed to be fairly content eating. Neither spoke a word. He hated how her platinum blond hair flitted across her face. She didn't seem too interested in this either, 'well, atleast she's not clingy like some of them had been' he thought. After she was done eating she asked callously "Are we done here? I have a life you know." "Why …" he paused collected his thoughts, "Why exactly are you here? You obviously don't like me. Why did you agree?" "Well!" she said raising her eyebrows, "When John Cena says your gonna go on a date with randy Orton! You cant really say no, now can you. And he had those two bots you hang around with, your Legacy is it? With him too…………….."

Randy Orton had had enough. He paid up, and stormed out of hotel. There had been people staring and pointing at them; whispering amongst themselves all through. Maryse turned to a few people sitting across and shrugged and said, "Maybe he was worried about the performance." One guy said, "Yeh he was beat up pretty badly on RAW" Maryse gave him a how stupid are you expression and said "YA I was talking about that."

This was not going well for Randy. He had stormed out of the hotel but the valet just told him his car was gone. Randy had grabbed the valet by his collars and asked him the meaning of that. "Iee iit itt it it …… was the guy you came with, the one, who went away, he came back, took the car, he was with you." The scared valet said. "And you just gave it to him?" "He came with your date, he you are going with her, he said he had come for the car. I he I sorry….. " the valet blurted, almost crying as randy tightened his grip on the pale chubby fellow. He now had to wait for her to show up. He waited for her and waited and waited and waited and waited and waited. He finally turned back to peer through the glass. And there she was, still in her chair, right in the middle, the centre of the world's attention, signing autographs! He bashed his fists through the glass and the force of a professional wrestler's hand was enough to smash that thick glass. Maryse was busy signing autographs for her fans, when she heard the maitre'd scream, "Sacre'bleu! What have you done monsieur??!?" Now who pay for this, Vince McMahon??" She turned to see Randy standing at the window, broken, his right hand bleeding. She got up hurriedly and said, "I have to go." She reached Randy outside the hotel and was about to say something when he exploded "I have been waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting. You did this on purpose, what the hell is wrong with you?" He scared valet had gotten their car as he saw Maryse coming towards them. Randy just let his handkerchief soak his blood and went and sat in the back seat. "Get me somewhere I can get a cab from, this place is desolate." He hissed. Maryse promptly drove him to a main street and he almost kicked the door open got out and hailed a cab and left. He did not utter a word.

Maryse just sat there. A rental drove up to her, "How'd it go?" John Cena asked her through the window. "Worse, he hurt his hand." She said. "AHH WELL!" John Cena grinned with a twinkle in his eyes, "Things had been going a little too smoothly lately!"

This is something that was stuck in my head for a few days. Its from the story 22 Divas by Pixiella. This is not canon with Pixiella's story but if she wants she can just copy and paste this when [a big when as she's only written about 2 dates as yet] she gets to date no 17.


End file.
